


Alarm Bells and Fantasies

by Empath_Writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (i might make another prequal fic about how they made up), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Child Abuse, Depression, Draco is trying his best, Draco's trying to be relatable but he talks like an asshole, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am here to correct this injustice, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JK established that Harry was abused and then never showed anything about it, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated for swearing, Snape is a horrible person and I should say it, this is set somewhere around GoF and OotP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empath_Writes/pseuds/Empath_Writes
Summary: Harry Potter liked to pretend he was okay. The aforementioned fact was not unknown among the Gryffindor's friends, and as a new person came to befriend him, they began to notice the oddities.Every friend of Harry’s went down a journey of worry for him, and Draco Malfoy was no different.~~~aka, I hate that JK Rowling ignored Harry's past of abuse throughout the whole series and that there is a startling lack of Drarry fluff in this fandom so I decided to amend for both of those things.





	Alarm Bells and Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> First: as someone who was verbally and physically abused for most of my childhood, I find the way Harry Potter was written to be not only lazy but flat out disgusting. Truly it's a disappointment, all the incredible content we missed and the loss of rep for people with mental health problems. Also, Snape was verbally abusive to his students and there was no way in hell Harry, with his past, wouldn't end up put it some sort of, at the very least, uncomfortable situation because of this.  
> Hot Take: Draco deserved a redemption arc and Snape fucking didn't.
> 
> So to establish a timeline, Harry and Draco had a bit of a rivalry but made up halfway through first year, the rest of the series is altered accordingly. I might write more about this universe if the fic is a success.
> 
> Big thanks to Furious_Pines for beta reading!

Harry Potter liked to pretend he was okay. Despite all the fanboys and girls who seemed to love him, few noticed and, sadly, fewer cared. As long as he was acting as their savior, what did it matter his mental state?

The aforementioned fact was not unknown among the Gryffindor's friends. See, Harry had a lot of ticks. As a new person came to befriend him, they began to notice the oddities. The way he flinched when offered a high five or how loud noises sent him jumping.

These often came as strange to those new to the group as The Boy Who Lived often seemed so kind, welcoming, and upbeat. It was strange seeing this beacon of sass silenced by the presence of too many people, or an unexpected thump on the back. How he was unafraid to use snark as a weapon, but when he heard something degrading towards him, joke or otherwise, he seemed to dull and shrink, his attempts to laugh it off hollow.

Every friend of Harry’s went down a journey of worry for him, and Draco Malfoy was no different.

~~~~~~

When Draco first met The Boy Who Lived, he never thought he’d become friends with the guy. Looking back, he had been a pretty big baby about it. So the kid wouldn’t shake his hand? Doesn’t mean he was a terrible person, Draco was just spoiled. And he was, he knew that, he wasn’t blind. But somehow the obnoxious Gryffindor wiggled his way into his heart and grew there like a nasty disease.

The pureblood didn’t expect much from his friendship with Harry bloody Potter. At first it was to establish social high ground, then it was out of emotional obligation, and honestly? Draco had never had a friend that wasn’t purely for status. The people he hung around only became his “friends” because they shared powerful bloodlines. It was a dynastic contract, not… Whatever the bloody hell this was.

See, Draco hung around plenty of other Slytherins, but that was it. They just stood near each other and trash talked others. When Draco and Harry “made up” and started to hang out together, it was completely different, and Draco was utterly unprepared.

_\--“Malfoy!” Draco turned his head to see the puppy dog of a Gryffindor golden boy running towards him. They may have patched things up, but it still surprised him to see the shorter boy talking to him at all._

_“Hello, Potter.” He replied, and silently thanked whoever was listening that no one else was around._

_Potter snorted a bit. “Jeez, that’s too formal. We’re friends now! You can just call me Harry,” He smiled and it disarmed Draco how blindingly genuine he appeared._

_“U-um, all right then. Same here.”_

_The Boy Who Lived donned an absolute shit-eating grin that sent fear coursing through Draco’s veins._

_“Why would I call_ you _Harry? That’s_ my _name!”_

_Draco had never rolled his eyes so hard in his life. “You’re such a wanker,” he muttered to the childish laughter emanating from beside him.--_

Harry had just been so… nice. He seemed to actually legitimately enjoy Draco’s company and care about the other’s opinions. He had never had anyone like that before. Someone who was willing to listen. Well, other than maybe his mom, but that doesn’t count. God, how lame did that sound? That before Harry, Draco’s only real friend was his own mom. But honestly, the way he treated him was so dang disarming. Was this what it was like to actually have friends? He wasn’t going to lie, it scared him a bit.

It was no secret that Draco hadn’t liked Harry at first. Even once they were on good terms, he was off-put by him. But whether it was late nights in a study group for the transfiguration exam or goofing off by the lake, he came to like having the other around. Maybe a little too much for his own good.

_\--“Alright, Draco, it’s your turn.” Hermione chirped._

_Draco sighed. How had he been roped into this? Oh yeah, he was ambushed after classes and dragged into the Gryffindor common room against his will, how could he forget._

_“Fine, get it over with.” He griped._

_Hermione giggled, and something told him she got a kick out of being the one to ask him, “Truth or dare?”_

_The Slytherin took a minute to rub his face in exasperation over this whole situation. So it was the weekend, that doesn’t mean he’s got time for this muggle resting ritual they called a… ‘Sleepover’. He has homework!_

_“Truth, I suppose.”_

_These muggle traditions are always so infantile…_

_“Hmmm… okay, okay! Do you like someone?”_

_Wow, did he hate the way she said ‘like someone’, it really grated his nerves_.

_A chorus of “Ooooooh” went up around the circle. Harry, however, seemed to think that question was less than satisfactory, giving Hermione a friendly punch on the shoulder. “That’s so stupid! That’s the easiest and most overused question in the book.” He rolled his eyes at her, but she seemed rather unashamed of her choice, shaking her head at the boy as her mane of curls bounced around her._

_“Common or not, it’s a good question! They’re cliches for a reason. And besides, aren’t you curious?” The look Hermione gave Harry was bizarrely unreadable._

_After a moment of silence, Harry puffed out a breath and muttered, “Whatever, ask your question,” then, much quieter he muttered, just loud enough Draco would hear, “still dumb, though.” This got a few snickers from around the circle._

_Hermione simply flipped her near untamable curls over her shoulder in indignance, “Anyone else got problems? No? Cool.” She then turned her attention to a rather terrified Draco. “So?” She prompted._

_Draco’s mind broke momentarily. “Uh, so…” he stuttered._

_“Soooo, who do you fancy?” She asked more urgently. Her face brightened with excitement and her fingers played with the hem of her pants almost as if on autopilot as she leaned a little closer to him._

_This question immediately made Draco turn pink, having not fully processed it the first time. “Ummm, no one?” He insisted, giving her a baffled look. For some reason, this answer made her very excited._

_“Hah! So you do like someone!” She almost sounded like she was solving a mystery or something._

_“What? No! How did you get that from me saying I don’t like anyone?”_

_“Elementary my dear Slytherin.” What the everloving fuck did that even mean? “See when I asked, you not only hesitated but turned red, plus you phrased your denial like a question!” She seemed to glow with pride over this deduction. It was a little bit annoying._

_“What are you talking about? I don’t like anyone!” Draco grumbled._

_This only brought on a thoughtful look from the tenacious girl. She looked him over multiple times - wow, that’s uncomfortable - and narrowed her eyes. Draco did not like being inspected like this. In fact, everyone seemed to be looking at him somewhat similarly. It was a circle of Gryffindors (as well as a couple Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw) all scrutinizing him like some kind of… fuck, he didn’t know! Something you scrutinize!_

_“Why’re you looking at me like th-”_

_“Is it Pansy?”_

_“_ Parkinson _!?” Draco barked, “No!_ Merlin _, no. I can hardly stand her for one class period, much less long enough to ask her out!” He laughed. Draco fancying Pansy Parkinson! What a wild thing to say._

_Hermione sighed in defeat, running a hand through her hair and letting it tangle there. “Fine, so it isn’t Pansy.” She said, disappointment clear in her voice. “So… who is it? You obviously like someone.”_

_Did he? Hermione was pretty smart - he wasn’t salty enough to deny her that - and even though her Pansy idea wasn’t right… was she right about him having a crush? Draco cocked his head to the side in thought, gears turning and mind racing, down the list of people he knew, faces and names. Nothing seemed to fit. He glanced around at the other wizards and witches assembled in the common room, thinking, thinking… oh._

_Well, it was rather obvious, wasn’t it?_

_He turned back to Hermione and said, “No, I don’t believe I do. At least not to my knowledge.” He shrugged, but he knew that his confident tone would deter more questions._

_Hermione seemed to settle for his answer, huffing in defeat and saying, “Alright, fair enough.”_

_And so the game continued and the spotlight quickly shifted as Ron dared Neville to eat a beetle he found in the corner of the room. But the events of the last question still squirmed in Draco’s stomach, turning over in his head and taunting him. Hermione was wrong about Pansy but she was right about him. He did fancy someone. As his gaze settled back on the person in question, he let his mind wander a bit, losing his train of thought in tan skin, bright eyes, and a nasty lightning scar.--_

Draco’s stomach broiled at the memories of that night and his face burned, not that anyone cared where his mind went at that moment or how he was lost in thought. Things had been nice when it was simply that. Dumb games and shitty jokes. But his thoughts of Harry were more troubled now. The things he noticed of him seemed so much bleaker the longer he’d been friends with him.

Something was off with him, little behaviors that Draco had never noticed before began itching at the back of his mind. So many memories, so little time.

_\--Harry’s win at the quidditch game was almost unbelievable! Draco hadn’t known he could move that fast, holy cow. He could hardly even be mad at him for beating the Slytherin team, his skill at the game was just so incredible._

_Despite being a member of the opposing team and effectively the loser, Draco had been preemptively invited to the after party in celebration of the Gryffindor team’s win at the semi-finals. The Weasley twins were nothing compared to the sheer gallons of snark possessed by Harry Potter._

_So Draco hit the showers, changed back into his normal clothes, and made his way to the Gryffindor common room once again, password written on a scrap of paper in his pocket._

_His mind wandered as he walked, scaling moving stairways and passing countless paintings that chattered amongst themselves of Gryffindor’s win. He thought aimlessly about the drinks at the party and who all from the other houses had been invited. There was him of course, and they probably wanted the other Patil twin. Maybe they invited Pansy? Probably, she and Hermione seemed to get along strangely well. Did McGonagall know about their party plan? Yeah, no. They definitely left her out of it, she would shut it down immediately. Actually, Draco should be more careful, he wouldn’t want to get caught by Filch or someone. Oh! The Fat Lady, he was there already._

_“Password!” She trilled._

_“Whizzbizz,” Draco said, very much unamused by the most recent code._

_Terrible password or no, the painting swung open and Draco climbed through to find a veritable wall of music and bodies rushing around him. Truly when the Gryffindors partied they followed the rule of_ go _big or go home to a T. Draco could barely see who was who as students raced about all over the room, music drowning out normal conversation and leading people to yell every word, effectively only worsening the volume. There was a chunk of kids dancing in the middle of the room and off to the side were fold-out tables likely provided by Fred and George that were teeming with snacks and candies and even some liquor of_ probable _poor quality. Draco wasn’t sure whether to be surprised that they could obtain that or simply resigned to the fact._

_“-co! Draco, hey!”_

_The Slytherin raised his head, stirred from his thoughts by a voice closing in. Truly the music was far too loud, he’d only heard the person when they were almost beside him! And lo and behold, there stood Harry Potter himself. The Boy Who Lived, Gryffindor seeker, and honestly, Draco’s best friend. His hair was wilder than usual and his eyes bright with excitement, but there was something else about him. Something equally as wild as his hair that resided in his gaze and something stressed in his smile. His demeanor was excitable but his shoulders were taught. His body bouncing to the rhythm of the music but his fingers tapping far more than what was normal for the bespectacled boy. Draco almost thought to question him about this but decided against it. He had made a big win today for his team and he was not about to bring him down._

_“Harry! I could hardly see you in the crowd,” Draco grinned as he added, “No worries, I’m sure you’ll get that growth spurt eventually,” To which he was greeted with a push on the shoulder and a snort._

_“Shut up, I’m not short. And you’re only a little bit taller than me! Just wait, I’ll outgrow you for sure.”_

_Spoiler alert, he did not._

_“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Draco shrugged, “Where’re the others?”_

_“Over by the couches. Ron’s roping in new kids to beat at wizard chess.”_

_Draco laughed at that. Anyone who’d ever met Ron knew not to challenge the guy to a game, they were simply destined to be demolished, especially if bets were involved._

_As Harry lead him through the crowd, though, the lightheartedness that had been restored to him quickly crumbled. He was no fool, he didn’t miss the way the other seemed to shrink amongst all those people or how he jumped at hands grabbing his shoulders in congratulation. Draco was almost moved to hug him but he knew it was a stupid idea._

_However as quickly as this all came, it went once again as they exited the veritable mob of students and emerged into the seating area. The hearth wasn’t lit - you never involve fire in a Gryffindor party. Ever. But to Draco’s immense delight, there was a rather anxious looking second year sorely losing to Ron, who was, in fact, betting, if the pile of coins and candies beside him were anything to go off of._

_“Draco,” Hermione waved from her place on the couch. “Glad you could make it!”_  
_Immediately after Hermione had announced his presence, there was a wave of greetings being tossed his way._

_Around the fireplace, just about everyone was gathered. Ron and his unlucky chess opponent, Hermione chatting away with Pansy while Neville, Ginny, and Luna sat on the floor in deep discussion. The twins and Lee Jordan speaking rapidly, likely about their next prank, Wood, Johnson, and Spinnet giddily discussing their new win, and Brown, the Patil twins, and - to Draco’s surprise - Blaise were off to the side, chatting idly. It was a nice pocket of home amongst the chaos of the party raging around them._

_He and Harry took up residence at the foot of the couch with Hermione, Ron, and Pansy just as Ron made his final move and solidified his win against the poor, unsuspecting second year. The kid sighed in frustration and relented a handful of sickles to the smug redhead, slinking off, probably to complain to his friends._

_“Don’t you think it’s a little wrong to be taking money from kids?” Draco teased._

_“Yeah, especially ones who don’t know what’s coming.” Harry nodded, raising an eyebrow at Ron in mock-reprimand._

_Ron waved them off, giving them a shit-eating grin. “Hey, it’s his fault for not doing his research, man.”_

_Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”_

_“Aww, thanks, Draco, glad to see you think I’m always right.” Ron snickered at his own joke, leaving the blonde to sigh and rub at his eyes._

_“That’s not what I meant and you damn-well know it.”_

_Ron just shrugged, then reached into his haul and held something out for him. “Sugar quill?” He offered, smugly. He knew he had won and he wasn’t afraid to flaunt it, the weasel._

_Draco sighed melodramatically and took the bribe, left defeated with his treat. “I hate you all,” He muttered. Ron just laughed and traipsed off to find his next victim._

_Harry patted Draco on the shoulder, feigning consolation. “It’s alright, you’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.”_

_He snorted. “Oh. My. Merlin, that was bad.”_

_“Thank you, I try.” Harry giggled and half-bowed. He giggled! Dammit, this boy really was trying to kill him. Ugh, subject change, subject change!_

_“Oh, pardon my poor manners I realize I never congratulated you on your win! You were spectacular, especially considering most of the students on my team have been playing since they could walk! Myself included,” Draco subtly bragged, “We_ have _to play one-on-one sometime. I never thought I’d say this, but you could perhaps even... Teach me a thing or two, despite the blasphemy of the sentence itself,” He cast him a sideways smile, and he knew the excitement he felt was written all over his face, but he couldn’t care to contain it._

_Harry stared at him for a moment - was that a blush? No, it couldn’t be - then a smile, a genuine one this time, spread across his face and he let slip a laugh before replying, “You bet your ass I could.”_

_Draco snorted. “Oh, I’d never bet my rear, it’s positively gorgeous, and I’m not dumb enough to lose it, unlike all of Ron’s most recent victims.”_

_At that, Harry lost all semblance of composure. He clutched his sides and laughed into the overbearing noise of the room, a sort of pure joy on his face that he hadn’t had all evening and that filled Draco’s heart with warmth. Tears formed in his eyes, which danced with amusement, and whenever he seemed to calm down he’d start leaking more and more laughter all over again. Soon he was a puddle on the floor._

_“I can’t tell if you’re laughing at Ron’s victims or my fine behind. Hopefully, the first one, as the second is no joke,” Draco jested._

_Harry, from where he lay flat on the ground, just groaned, “My face hurts. How dare you make me hurt my face,” Which invoked a laugh from the Slytherin, and despite the accusatory tone of his voice, as he peeled himself from the floor, he was smiling._

_Unfortunately, this bubble of happiness was soon popped as someone grabbed Harry’s arm and yelled over the music, “Dude, great job today!”_

_Draco watched Harry flinch away from the kid as they returned to the crowd and the wild look returned to him. Panic. Harry was panicking._

_“Hey, um, are you alright? You seem rather… tense.” Draco inquired softly. He refrained from touching his friend, unsure of whether or not it would worsen things, but worry filled his stomach with uncertainty and set his mind buzzing._

_Harry simply waved off the question. “I-I’m fine. Just a little…” He seemed to chew on his words for a minute before finishing, “overwhelmed.”_

_“Hey, you know, if things get to be a little too much, you can always step away from it for a bit? No one’s going to force you to stay.” At least they better not, or they’ve got a nasty hex coming their way. But immediately Harry is shaking his head._

_“No, no, I’ll be alright. I won the game, didn’t I? I couldn’t leave.” When he looked up again, he was smiling, but Draco saw through it all too well. It was clearly fake. Harry wasn’t okay and that tugged at his heart because he was forcing himself to be happy for people who didn’t matter. Why couldn’t he be happy for himself? For real?_

_Before Draco could voice his concerns, Harry was heading off back into the crowd with a simple “See you later,” tossed over his shoulder, and then he was gone and Draco was alone with nothing but a sugar quill and some troubling thoughts.--_

What had been up with him that night? What had been up with him a lot recently? He always seemed uncomfortable when people talked about him or when someone spoke too loud. The other day, someone dropped their book and he nearly spilled his ink pot from the start it gave him. But the thing that spun through Draco’s mind the most was the fact that Harry wasn’t talking to him about it. Whenever he brought it up, the other would dodge his questions and leave. What was he missing? What was wrong?

Merlin, the buzzing in his head was getting annoying. He was getting nothing done! Whatever, he had one last place to turn. He wasn’t too sure how it would go, but at this point, he was getting desperate. Draco closed the book whose page he’d been staring at for ten minutes now and returned it to its shelf, gathering his things and marching out of the library with a mission. He had to talk to Ron and Hermione.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thankfully his quest didn’t take long. The two were hanging out in a secluded corridor playing a game of gobstones for free period while Hermione ranted about some assignment or other. She hardly noticed the Slytherin’s presence at first and Draco honestly found it amusing how intense she could be. Hermione really was a formidable witch.

“-and then he said, no- oh, hey Draco- wait, Draco!? How long have you been there?” Hermione jumped, embarrassment spreading across her face.

“Long enough to know that Flitwick didn’t in fact say ‘no- oh, hey Draco- wait Draco’.”

Hermione groaned and let her head fall forward, her hair toppling over her face like a poofy curtain. Ron just laughed at her anguish. She threw one of the stones at him. Step and repeat.

Draco watched this back and forth for a minute, of Ron laughing and Hermione throwing stones, until he began to lose patience and clapped his hands together to get their attention. “Alright, this is fun and all, but I actually wanted to talk to you guys about something?” He prompted.

Ron leaned back on his hands and looked up at Draco, a lazy smile on his face. “Sure, man, shoot.”

“Alright well,” He took a deep breath to try and quell the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach. “Something’s been… Rather _off_ about Harry lately, and I was wondering if you guys knew anything about it?” As he spoke, Hermione emerged from her hair cocoon, shooting Ron a nervous glance.

“Umm…” She muttered, eyes darting back and forth as if unsure where to look, “Nope! Nothing.” She seemed to speak too quickly and her eyes, finally, completely darted off to the side, avoiding his gaze. She was fiddling with her clothes again, too.

“Hermione, are you really that bad of a liar? You can’t possibly be.” Draco sighed, making her huff and Ron snort.

“Nah, she isn’t that bad at lying, she’s just touchy about this,” Ron said, apparently seeing nothing wrong with letting things slip, so to speak. Hermione, however, seemed very unhappy with his choice of words and shot him a scathing glare, seemingly reminding him he wasn’t meant to speak. “Uh, I mean, yeah. She’s terrible.” He amended. Hermione let her head drop into her hands.

Draco hummed in thought. “Apparently you both are. Seriously you two, what’s going on?” He demanded.

The pair exchanged these odd looks like they were holding a silent debate that only they could hear, before glancing back at him.

“Look,” Hermione began. “There is something, but we’re not really at liberty to tell you. It’s a sensitive subject and it’s not our place… As much as I’d love to let you in on this, it’s not up to me.” She sighed. Draco thought to question her about that, but the look in her eyes was too genuine. She really meant this.

He took a breath of resignation and nodded. “Alright, that’s vaguely what I’d expected. I suppose I must find out for myself, hmm?” He looked at her with tired eyes and she nodded ever so slightly, his expression mirrored in her own.

“Oh wait,” Ron muttered, seemingly thinking out loud. “What about the Dursl-”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

“Oh… so I wasn’t supposed to mention that part, got it.” He nodded and gave Hermione a thumbs up. She facepalmed and threw another gobstone at him, this time hitting his forehead and getting a quiet “Ow.”

Draco stared at them for a little while in quiet confusion before shrugging it off and going, “Whatever, I won’t pry. See you both later.”

And he headed off for his next class, left wondering for approximately two days more.

~~~~~~~~~

Ah, yes. Joint Gryffindor-Slytherin potions. The longest and most insufferable class of them all. Now, Draco was great at potions, he excelled, but did Snape really have to drone on in that monotone voice the whole damn time? It was excruciating. But whatever. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as well as most of his Slytherin friends and acquaintances, were in the class, so at least he held a shred of solace.

As Draco entered his last class for the week, he was pleasantly surprised to find himself early. Most of the more try-hard kids were already sat up front, with a smattering of lucky kids like himself scattered throughout the rest of the room, Harry included. He strode through the room, which still hummed with pre-class chatter, to drop his bag in the desk behind Harry’s. The shorter boy cast him a quick smile as he passed and gave an amicable wave, Draco nodding to him in return as he slid into his seat, unpacking his things.

Slowly more kids trickled in and the time gap between passing and the start of class continued to narrow, but oddly enough, Draco looked around to find Hermione and Ron still hadn’t arrived. He tapped Harry on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey, where are Ron and ‘Mione? Are they skipping?” The thought dawned on him and nearly scared him half to death. The Gryffindor girl practically ate, slept, and breathed books and knowledge. She’d never just not go to class! Certainly not on purpose.

“Umm,” Harry thought for a moment, glancing around the classroom. “I think they said something about Flitwick wanting them to help clean his class during his break.” He murmured.

Draco tilted his head, confused. “Why couldn’t they do it during their free period? Or after classes?”

“Something about-” The green-eyed boy cleared his throat and put on a rather stupid voice, “finishing their schoolwork so that their education shan't suffer whilst they're being punished!” He snorted as his voice wavered and dropped back to normal. “And he knew Hermione would think twice about harassing him and causing a mess again if she was forced to miss another class for it.”

Now that only lead him to be further confused. What mess? Did this have something to do with the tangent she’d been on when he saw her just a couple days ago? What was this punishment about exactly, what mess? And why was Ron stuck helping? Before Draco could ask any of these many questions, Snape was at the front of the room, calling for attention. Ah well, he could ask Harry more once class was over he supposed. The knowledge that Hermione wasn’t skipping was at least a bit of a relief, and he settled in for a rather boring class ahead.

~~~~~~~

Trelawney would be so proud of Draco’s “third eye” right now. He had truly predicted his own demise perfectly. The potion they were stuck brewing today was a particularly meticulous one, and he was so focused on finely chopping every little ingredient, he hardly had time to listen to Snape’s long, droaning overcomplication. Fuck, this was stressful. When in the everloving world would he need to make a complex potion in order to make someone a duck!? Agh, shite, no time to rant, it only ceases distracting himself.

Despite how annoying the lesson might have been - and the fact that the period would, unfortunately, be twice as long today - things were going rather smoothly. Neville’s potion hadn’t backfired at all so far and Seamus hadn’t accidentally set himself or someone else on fire, so Draco would call that a success.

And then about halfway through, Snape started making his rounds.

As per usual, Snape would be inspecting everyone’s potions, and that was truly the most anxiety-riddled time of all, for the Gryffindors in particular. It was like a slow and ruthless slaughter in which you simply had to sit back and watch it all, wondering whether you might be next.

Alright, so that was a rather melodramatic way of putting it, but in Draco’s defense, he was a melodramatic person. And besides, you really did feel on the chopping block when Snape was the one to judge you. The only self-control he had was when creating potions.

He walked slowly about the room, getting in Draco’s head a bit. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand and push the man’s scathing remarks about other kids’ work to the edges of his mind, but it was rather difficult to fully block the drawling hiss of his voice, so finely tuned to send someone mad. And, ah, yes, the dramatics were back. Lovely.

After a while of Snape circling, Draco regained his rhythm and continued to work dutifully on his assignment. He was nearly three-quarters of the way through when he heard something that made his stomach roll.

“Hm, Potter, ever the dull one, eh?”

Draco’s gaze was drawn from his work to the boy sitting in front of him and he saw the way he shrank ever so slightly under Snape’s scrutiny. The Slytherin began to feel a sense of dread in his gut. Something was about to happen, something really bad, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“You are aware that the mixture is meant to be chartreuse and not lime, correct? Ah, of course not, you’d only know that if you listened, but we all know you didn’t do that.” Snape formed a small smirk on his face. Draco swore he got some sort of sick gratification from torturing his students like this. “If you had been listening you also would have known to dice finely and not leave your flobberworms in large chunks like that. It’s common knowledge that that will slow the dissolving process exponentially and cause your potion to burn.” He spoke smugly.

Merlin, this whole thing infuriated Draco! Of course Harry knew about the flobberworms, they had held a study group just last week, he understood the material, they all did! Snape was treating him like a useless child instead of a human being with emotions and it made the blonde want to punch him in his stupid, pompous face. He did that to all of them! The man was borderline child neglect incarnate.  
  
Harry had seemed to shrink a fair amount already and his fingers were tapping anxiously against the edge of his seat. He was squirming with discomfort under the professor’s harsh gaze. Draco couldn’t see his face, but he knew his friend was in a bad place right then.

“I-I know that, sir, I’m no-not done yet.” Harry stammered, head low.

“I’m sorry, Potter, but I couldn’t hear you. You really must stop mumbling so much, wouldn’t want to end up misconstrued.” Snape guffawed.

Harry was gripping his seat tightly now, knuckles white. His face was entirely hidden behind messy hair and hunched shoulders. When Draco glanced around the room, he saw that a lot of other Gryffindors and even a few allied Slytherins seemed pretty worried for their classmate. Seamus and Dean were exchanging anxious looks and Pansy almost seemed to be preparing to jump up and do something, her fingers gripping her table and knee bouncing. Neville looked about ready to faint. This scene that was unfolding before them was truly more excruciating than any lecture Draco may have feared before.

“Aw, what’s the matter? No witty comeback? No snarky remark? What, cat got your tongue?” And now Draco was truly disgusted. Snape was teasing him! He was a teacher, a professional intended to help facilitate growth and aid children, and he was here poking fun at one of his students, who was clearly having a highly negative reaction to his color commentary. “Hm, just another failure for Potter I suppose. But don’t worry, you’ve got plenty under your belt already, I’m sure this one will be no different.”

At the word failure, Harry released his hold on his chair and instead dragged his fingernails down his neck, a small gasp, nearly imperceptible, escaping his sealed mouth.

Snape tisked a bit, “What, the wizarding world’s golden boy can’t handle a little criticism? Come on, your potion will surely fail after letting yourself get so distracted. Can’t dice and converse at the same time? Oh! How could I have forgotten, of course you can’t! You couldn’t gather your ingredients and listen at the same time either-”

There was a sudden screech and thump as out of nowhere, Harry lurched to his feet, knocking back his chair abruptly in the process, and rushed out of the classroom with his bag, tossing something about needing to leave over his shoulder as he whisked out of the room faster than anyone was prepared to process.

For what felt like ages but was only a few seconds, the whole classroom sat in total silence. Snape was blinking at the empty chair before him with a muddled look about him, like he wasn’t sure how to feel about this turn of events. But Draco was instantly furious. He would damn well make sure he knew how to feel.

Draco shot to his feet, hands slamming down on his desk. “You bloody _fucking **idiot**_!” He roared.

Immediately all eyes turned to him, a room of startled looks all directed at the lone Slytherin, but he couldn’t care less.

“Excuse me?” Snape retorted, this positively outraged look on his face.

“You fucking heard me, I said you’re a bloody moron!” Draco barked.

“Mr. Malfoy! Watch your language!”

“No! No, I will not ‘watch my language,’ because you know what? I’m filthy fucking _pissed_ and you’re going to **listen**.”

Draco straightened his posture, shoulders squared, jaw clenched, making himself appear as formidable as he could. “Why the everloving _troll fuck_ are you even a teacher? Why are you in the business of teaching children if you don’t even know how to be a decent human being, you bloody boggart!?” The boy paused a moment, catching his breath between the quiet hissing of air leaving his lips.  
  
“You stood there and belittled a student because you knew you could and you knew you had power over him and that he couldn’t stop you. And for what? Some dusty old grudge with people who aren’t even around anymore? His deceased fucking parents to boot?” He sniped. He paused a moment, leaning in close to the terrible man’s face as he whispered, “Or because you really are so innately _horrible_ and **_bitter_** that the only thing that brings you joy is putting down people you think of as _inferior_?”

Draco threw up his hands at the aghast professor, already thoroughly pissed off, but there was nothing stopping this tirade now. “Couldn’t you see something was seriously wrong the entire time you were saying all that _minotaur shit_? Are you really so bloody _dense_ you couldn’t even tell that you’d crossed a line from simply his _posture_? Because if so, you are in no place to be “ _criticizing_ ” anyone. That _wasn’t_ criticism. That was verbal abuse. And that makes it _pretty damn clear_ to everyone present that Harry wasn’t the lesser person, it was **_you_**.”

With that final statement, Draco grabbed his own bag, slung it over his shoulder and began marching out of the classroom. About halfway to the door, Snape’s brain rebooted and he whirled around, stuttering out, “H-hey, you can’t just leave!”

“Oh? What’re you going to do, take away my house points?” Draco spat. “I hope my potion fucking explodes and burns off your big ass forehead on that disgusting face only a mother could love. Oh, wait, sorry, yours is dead. I guess nobody loves you.”

And then he was out the door, picking up his pace as he strode through the dungeon corridor. Wherever Harry was, he was alone and hurt. He needed help. He needed a friend. He needed Draco.

~~~~~~~~~~

It took Draco maybe ten or fifteen minutes to find Harry. Every moment filled him with more panic and every step added to his feeling of hopelessness until finally, it struck him. Of course, the one place no one would look.

Draco wove through corridors and less-used halls, avoiding being spotted at all costs until he finally came to the place he had been looking for. Opening the old door to the condemned girl’s restroom, he slipped inside unseen and, once in, he immediately heard it. It was hardly uncommon to hear crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, but as he looked around, he found no sign of the spectral girl, a fact that struck him as quite odd.

Draco had no time to think on that though, as the gravity of the situation became more pressing. There were choked sobs and too-fast breaths echoing off the tiled walls and the sounds immediately instilled Draco’s feeling of panic because that was, without a shadow of a doubt, Harry Potter.

He rushed forward, trying to keep some bit of composure, and as he rounded the circle of sinks that once granted his friends access to the Chamber of Secrets, he found Harry there, and the sight broke his heart. The Boy Who Lived, where he was once bright, witty, and cheerful, was reduced to no more than a puddle on the bathroom floor. He was clutching one leg to his chest, staring with wide, wild eyes into nothing. His other hand grasped at the front of his robes, his pant leg, his hair, his throat, whatever might give it purchase, desperately reaching for something but seemingly unsure of what. He was hyperventilating between cries, and as he sat there, he devolved into a brief but awful coughing fit right before Draco’s eyes.

The Slytherin almost instantly dropped to his knees beside Harry, reaching out at first but hesitating and pulling back, having thought against it. He was so unsure of what to do and it scared him. He didn’t want to make things worse on accident, but he also didn’t want to just sit there doing nothing. His mind raced for a moment, but then finally he decided to just do what he did when his mother was going through something like this. He sat back against the sinks next to Harry, and he just talked.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened. All this really sucks. Well, obviously… um… fuck.” Draco paused for a long moment, searching for something to say, every gasp and whimper breaking him up just a little bit more until finally he just decided to wing it. “Look, I don’t really know what I’m doing here, I’m gonna be honest. But I just kind of want to be here for you, so, I guess bear with me. This is going to be a learning experience for the both of us.” He sighed. “Do you need anything?” He asked, head rolling to the side to look at Harry, questioning but most of all concern filling his gaze.

Harry gasped for a moment, desperately trying to breathe, before choking out, “Water.” So Draco pulled his water bottle from his bag and passed it to Harry. Once again they were in silence for a bit, while Harry drank and Draco thought. The other’s voice was just so ragged and torn up, it hurt to hear him like that, instead of loud and opinionated.

“Is that better?” Harry nodded. “Would like me to keep talking?” He nodded again, settling back against the sinks with the water bottle in hand. So Draco kept talking. Well, rambling, really, but he deserved the benefit of the doubt. He jumped from topic to topic, everything from last quidditch practice to something dumb Boyle said at breakfast. He prattled on aimlessly for so long, he hardly noticed when Harry’s breathing became more level, or when the cries dissolved into hiccups. He only noticed what was going on when he mentioned a rather over the top prank orchestrated by the twins to get back at Pansy for never returning whatever something-or-other they were foolish enough to let her borrow and he heard a soft laugh, tired but there, from beside him.

At the sound, Draco tilted his head to look at Harry and found the other leaning in a more comfortable manner now, head tipped back and eyes shut, a tiny smile on his face.

“Hey, feeling better?” He asked, trying to sound as quiet and gentle as possible.

Harry hummed to himself. “Yeah, a-a bit.”

“Good, I’m… I’m glad.” Draco smiled and turned his attention back to the wall ahead, though something still nagged at the back of his mind. After a moment of wrestling with the thought, he prompted, “Hey, um. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or mess any of this up or anything, so like, you can totally just not answer if you don’t want to, but… What’s been, as your muggleborn friends like to say, crackalackin’?” Harry snorted, hiccuping a little as Draco continued, “You’ve just been acting rather weird and I was starting to get worried, plus then all this happened.” Draco gestured around at their position on the bathroom floor. “So I just wanted to know if you were doing okay, if there’s anything I’m missing here, or…” He trailed off and the two stayed quiet for a while. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Harry turned to him.

“I… yeah, there’s som-something. I haven’t t-talked to you about it yet because I don’t want you to be worrying about me-e and stuff, but… I have a-an-anxiety. Depression too. Probably PTSD, but I don’t have an official diagnosis-is. Sometimes shit just…” Harry shuddered in a deep breath. “S-sucks.” He breathed. “What happened to-today, I reached my l-lim-limit and it kinda crashed and burned as you can pr-probably tell.” He chuckled dryly. “I had an anxiety att-ack. Just… got reminded of s-s-some shitty stuff ba-back in class.” He grew quiet again after that, chewing his lip and staring up at the ceiling as if pondering.

Draco was pondering too. About the details of what had gone down and all Harry’s reactions to it. There was a lot to chew on.

“You don’t have to hide stuff like that from me, especially to protect me. Harry, I care about you, and I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on.” He said softly, worry dripping from his voice.

“Heh, I know. I-I’m just a li-little too us-sed to being a burden.” He muttered, and the phrase tugged at Draco’s heart. How could someone so great see himself as a burden?

“Hmm,” Draco thought. One more question begged to be answered before he would allow his mind to drop things. “There’s another thing I’m confused about. The other day, Ron said something about ‘Dursl-’ and then Hermione threw a gobstone at his head. He said it had something to do with everything that’s been going on lately?” He knew he was pushing his luck a bit, but he was curious and he wanted to know what was going on.

Beside him, Harry breathed a laborious sigh. “Yeah, he was talking about my… m-my Aunt and Uncle. I suppose my cousin, too. Th-the Dursley’s. They k-kinda raised me.” His voice became next to nothing as his sentences progressed. “I don’t like ‘em t-to say the lea-least.”

So Draco sat and thought on this new information. He thought about it alongside the other things he’d noticed. The ticks and habits, the scene with Snape, how he’d called himself a burden. And just like that, everything was put together, clicking into place like the last piece of a puzzle, and he had just found out that this puzzle had a very nasty big picture.

In a near-whisper, he hissed, “They hurt you.”

Harry didn’t speak, he only nodded.

Draco let his head fall back, ignoring the painful thunk as he met the wall in favor of breathing, as deeply as he could as slowly as he could, trying desperately to keep from lashing out. Those people, those Dursley’s, had been abusing Harry. It filled him with more fury than Snape’s nasty and uncalled for behavior. It made him want to slap someone, preferably the faces of Harry’s aunt and uncle. But aside from the swelling anger, he was just sad. He was sad that he couldn’t help Harry, couldn’t save him somehow, couldn’t rewrite history. The damage was done, and the finality was the scariest part of it all.

And then he felt something that made his frustration dissolve and his heart thump hard in his chest.

At his side, Harry was lacing his fingers with Draco’s, casting him a look that told him he knew what he was thinking, and that he needed to stop. Draco swallowed, the last dregs of negativity still lingering, but now he felt much calmer. Safer. The presence of the Gryffindor made him melt and with it went the vengeance he had felt. Harry didn’t want that from him. He didn’t want anger or destruction. He wanted forgiveness. And if that came with holding his hand, then who was Draco to argue.

“Sorry.” He murmured. “It’s just… not a welcome thought.” This whole ordeal reminded Draco too starkly of his mother’s family and it stung to see another person he cared for hurt the same way.

Harry simply nodded and turned back to face ahead, but for a minute, Draco just watched. He admired. Admired the resilience of the boy at his side and the good that was so clearly within him and which shone all around him wherever he went. Admired how even after an anxiety attack, he seemed to hold so much maturity. He was brave and headstrong. Red and gold. But much more than that, he was Harry Potter, and he was enough.

“Hey, Harry?”

“Hm,”

“I just wanted you to know,” Draco squeezed the other’s hand for a moment as if to remind him he was there. “You could never be a burden to me.” When Harry turned to face Draco at this declaration, he was met with pale eyes shining with adoration and a small smile, a genuine smile, that spoke the rest of the thousands of words that Draco didn’t have the time nor the vocabulary to say.

And Harry smiled back, and he leaned his head against Draco’s shoulder and muttered, “I know-w. And Draco? Thanks. Fo-for everything.”

Oh, poor Draco’s heart. He wasn’t sure he could handle this. It had leaped into his throat now and choked down any other words he may want to say, filling his head with alarm bells and fantasies. This was surely going to kill him. But as that didn’t, the thing Harry did next certainly should have.

“H-hey, um, Draco,” The Slytherin in question glanced up at the other, who now, instead of having his head on his shoulder, was looking right at him, still incredibly close. He chewed on his lip for a minute, appearing to be contemplating something, before taking a deep breath and saying, “I... I think I love you.”

Draco’s brain actually broke. His eyes went wide and face red, heart rate so fast he swore Harry could hear it. He didn’t realize he had been smiling until he began to untie his tongue and the peculiar thought of how his cheeks kind of hurt crossed his mind. “I-I, I mean I’m-you, wait really?” He breathed.

Harry let out a nervous laugh. He looked very shaken in that moment. It occurred to Draco that he still had not said it back yet. “Y-yeah. Really.” He swallowed, eyes flickering across the grates and tiles beneath them in an attempt to avoid his friend’s gaze.

Draco was having none of that. This boy just confessed to him, and puffy-eyed from crying or no, he was damn well going to look him in the eye. So he carefully cupped Harry’s face in his hands and turned him so Draco could catch his eyes and say the words he thought he might never get to admit.

“I think I love you, too.”

Harry seemed just as startled by those words as Draco had been when the other had said it to him just a moment earlier, but soon he was cracking a wide smile and laughing into the palms of Draco’s hands. His laughter was truly infectious because soon Draco was rendered helpless as well, peppering Harry’s face with kisses in between bouts of giggles.

They remained like that for a while, feeling joyful for no real defined reason and holding onto the other because this all felt too unreal. At last, after they’d giggled themselves so hard it hurt, they simply lay tangled together, slumped against the snake-carved sinks.

Harry sighed into Draco’s chest, unable to suppress a smile, and spoke as though thinking out loud. “Merlin, why did that seem so hard to do just seconds ago?”

Draco snorted. “I know what you mean.” He sighed.

He was soon met with green eyes looking up into his, lingering insecurity dwelling somewhere in there. “You, um… you really mean it though?”

Draco simply smiled down at his Gryffindor and brushed his bangs aside to kiss his lightning scar. “Of course.”

Harry, content with this answer, settled back into place against Draco’s chest. “M’kay, just making sure.”

So they sat together on the tiles of that old, broken down bathroom, just breathing and processing. Light filtered in through the windows that stretched across the bathroom’s walls as the sun peaked back out from behind the clouds and for a moment, their peace was bathed in a bright glow. For once, the scene in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom was serene, aside from the occasional hiccup from Harry. However, after a long while, the silence was again broken by Harry snickering.

The boy looked up at Draco just a bit and teased, “Dude, I can practically feel you blushing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Potter.”

Harry burst at that, muffling his laughter in Draco’s tie. “You haven’t said something like that since first year, holy cow!”

“Yep, I’m here for nothing more than weird callbacks apparently. Totally not any other reason.” He sighed. “Oh, and speaking of weird callbacks, would you care to explain the many many details you glossed over earlier today when discussing Hermione and Ron getting grounded by Flitwick? Because I’m still very much in the dark here. Just saying.”

Harry grinned to just himself and nodded. “Yeah, alright. Buckle in, it gets a little crazy.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

It wasn’t until an hour after classes ended that they left the old girl’s bathroom, and until the very moment they had, they talked and laughed and confessed and dried each other's tears. They packed as much as they could into their little moment of peace in the abandoned lavatory in some forgotten corridor that, at least for that moment, only they knew of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco liked to think he was discreet about his relationship. The two didn’t tell many people, and he liked to believe that he was a pretty good actor. He wasn’t exactly correct about those things, but he was trying his best.

Maybe it was the fact that he was almost always holding Harry’s hand when they had potions together that gave it away a bit, but in his defense, he was trying to ward off Snape. The guy knew better than to test him now. One wrong move and he’d be reported to Professor McGonagall.

He became quite fiercely protective of Harry after the incident in Myrtle’s bathroom, not only because of their new status but because he now knew how Harry was really hurting. He knew how he liked to pretend he was okay and brush off small instincts as quirks. He knew how the golden boy of Gryffindor truly felt alone among a sea of pretenders and gossips. He knew how Harry’s insecurities whispered to him when he knew they were wrong. But most important of all, he knew that Harry loved him and that he loved Harry.

When Draco Malfoy first formed the truce between him and the rambunctious ex-rival of his, he akinned Harry’s friendship entering his life to that of a disease, growing and spreading and consuming. But now he knew that he was wrong. Harry’s friendship was not a disease, it was a gift handed to him on a silver platter that he could not bear to turn his nose up at.

Harry Potter was no disease. He was a savior.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My Tumblr is ChocolateEmpath, I make art and the occasional meme. Feel free to talk to me, I don't bite.
> 
> If you enjoyed, leave a comment. Reviews are greatly appreciated!


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